


Books and Quills

by castaliareed



Series: Dark Sister, Dark Nights [8]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Doggy Style, F/M, Possible Part 2 to Dark Sister Dark Nights, Post-Canon, Secrets, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 18:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15779229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castaliareed/pseuds/castaliareed
Summary: The years have gone by, Jon and Sansa are busy ruling the realm and raising their daughters. There is trouble in Essos. Despite all this, Sansa has found time for her secret passion. Little does she know Jon has discovered her secret.





	Books and Quills

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, I was inspired to write this for the Jonsa Smut week prompt, Watching Me. Smut Week was several weeks ago. Apologies for not getting it finished in time. I have two more half-finished updates to different fics. They are coming slowly but surely. 
> 
> In the meantime, please enjoy this!

**Sansa**

The castle had grown quiet, Sansa's daughters had been put to sleep in their beds. The people of Winterfell finished with their work. She moved through the halls, searching for her lord husband. He was not in his solar where she expected to find him. Sighing to herself, she assumed he was busy with the many duties that fell on both their shoulders. There was trouble in the east. Turning away from his solar, she made her way back to the chambers they shared.

It had been another long day. That morning while she brushed her thick auburn hair, she thought to hide away in her rooms. She was tired of the duties, burdens wishing she could stay all day in her room reading the books, no one bothering her, requiring her presence.  _Maybe Jon would join her. They could waste the day away._   _It was a pretty picture. An impossible one. There was too much to do._ Running a castle, governing the realm, caring for her daughters. Now, with the problems in another continent, trade from the three Free cities had slowed to a near standstill. It would be some time before another shipment of much-needed goods came let alone a shipment with books.

There was one book, a certain book, that happened to be found in the bottom of the crate. It had made its way back to her. The thought made her smile that morning while she dressed. She thought about it again while she walked the quiet castle halls wondering where her husband had gone. Yawning as she turned the corner to the hall that leads to her own rooms.  _When had she become so tired?_   _It causes me to neglect my poor lord husband,_ she worried. Most nights for the past few moons he worked late into the night. She had taken to reading the books that came from Essos. On nights when Jon could not join her, she was quite eager to read those books or even dream up her own stories. Reaching the heavy wooden door to their rooms, she sighed and supposed they had both been neglecting each other as of late.

She was surprised to find him in the room when she opened the door to their chambers. There was a fire blazing in the anteroom's hearth. Her husband, her lord, and her King sat at the table with papers littered about. The firelight cast shadows across one side of his face. His hair pulled back, dark beard trimmed. She admired him, his strong shoulders hunched over the table.

"I decided to work here tonight," he said glancing up at her with his intense grey eyes. "There are messages that must be sent."

"I see," she said wringing her hands together.  _Another late night_.  He's spent so many nights by candlelight trying to prevent the quarrelsome free cities from blocking Westerosi ships. Jon set down his quill and held her gaze. Her breath caught for a moment, imagining his lean graceful form underneath his grey tunic. A form she had not seen enough of in the past three moons. She turned away. 

Crossing the anteroom to the door of the bedroom, she could feel his eyes follow her. Perhaps he was angry she had not been helping him late into the night. She helped him when she could but by the time evening fell, her mind wanted to think about easy things, wanted her books and stories. 

Leaving the door to the bedchamber ajar, she undressed. Nights were cool even in the summer in the North. Still, unlacing her gown, letting it fall to the floor, she took her time. Slipping a sheer white shift over the curves of her body. She wasn't as thin of she used to be. Though, her form was attractive. Wrapping a velvet dressing robe with delicate vines embroidered on the sides, she returned to the anteroom.

"Sit," he said pointing to a chair by the hearth. She thought to pick up her sewing basket. It would give her something to do while he finished the messages.

"Haven't you been reading in the evenings?" he asked returning his eyes to the papers on the table. His quill stopped moving while he waited for her answer.

"Ah yes, your grace," she said holding the basket in her lap.

He chuckled to himself. "We've been married for how many years, now. When you're nervous you still say, your grace." Sansa fidgeted with fabric in the basket. 

"I have these to finish," he told her motioning to the papers. "You should read your book." She blinked her eyes before agreeing. There was a shelf filled with books in one corner of the room. Carefully she put down the sewing basket and walked to the shelf to pick out a book. She pulled out a history of Queen Nymeria.

"Not that one," he said hardly looking up at her. Sansa closed her eyes, inhaling.

"Which one would you like me to read," she said keeping her voice even. He was toying with her.

"The small one, with the red cover," he said still not looking at her or the shelf. She pursed her lips.  _Fine, your grace, if you would like me to read that book that is what I shall do._ Putting on her best manners, she pulled the book he requested from the shelf and returned to her chair.  _Naerys and her Dragonknight._  Opening the book to a random page, she attempted to focus. With her luck, she found herself reading an innocent enough passage describing the dress Queen Nerys' would wear to the feast later in the evening.

Engrossed in the little red book, she didn't notice that her dressing robe had slide off her shoulders. The couple in her story, Nerys and her Dragonknight, had gone from dancing at a feast to falling into each other's arms in an alcove concealed behind a tapestry. Someone could find the secret lovers.  _She had forgotten about this part._  Holding the small book with one hand, she brought the other to her mouth, biting her finger in nervousness, in desire.

The scratching of his quill had long stopped. She didn't hear that. All she could hear was the distant sound of music from a feast, the heavy breathing of two lovers kissing in a hidden alcove. The knight had pulled up the skirts of his lady love. Jon continued to watch her read.

Sansa became aware of his gaze on her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his grey eyes taking her in while he leaned back in his chair, hands up behind his head. Twirling the quill between his fingers. She was sure she noticed him lick his lips. She dropped the book into her lap, slamming it shut. Turning to glare at her lord husband, her king.

"Will you read to me?" he asked his mouthing turning upward.

"I...I..." her breath was heavy, she could feel her cheeks turning flush. He stood up from the table his writing quill in hand. Moving to stand behind her chair. His breath was so close.

The quill ran along her shoulder and up her neck. She inhaled trying not to think about how the feather of the quill tickled her neck. Trying not to think about how she liked it.

"My wife of all the things we've done. You won't read to me?" he didn't sound disappointed. He's teasing me. The quill moved up and down her neck. He placed his other firm hand on the opposite shoulder.

"I could order you to read to me," he said. The quill moved to her front, tickling the swell of her chest. She said nothing for more than a moment.

"Sit back down," she demanded, finding her voice. Squeezing her shoulder before he did what she told him, she heard him chuckle again. She picked the book back up searching for the beginning of a passage, she cleared her throat. The words started coming out of her mouth.

_Queen Naerys scanned the crowd from her place on the dais. The King was occupied with a serving girl. Nerys was sorry for the girl. The King would leave her in peace because of the girl. For that, Naerys felt the guilt sweep over her. She raised her glass of wine to her lips to take a sip. Her eyes met the ever protective Aemon the Dragonknight across the hall. She swallowed her wine faster than she should..._

Sansa stopped for a moment. She was just reading a story to Jon.  _This story._  Her mind raced, wondering how he had found this book.  _How had he known about this book?_

"Keep going," he said. Sansa stole a glance at his darkened face. He was sitting in his chair again watching her. The quill in one strong hand and he ran his other hand with the burnt scars along the edge of the feather. Exhaling, she returned to the page.

_The drunker the king got the less he paid attention to Queen Naerys. The guests had begun dancing. Tonight, she did not feel like dancing._

_She ran out of the hall. The King hardly noticed. There was a hand on her arm. 'Leaving so soon,' he asked. Nerys turned to see Aemon, good sweet Aemon, holding her forearm. 'I'm not feeling well, Ser,' she said._

_"Perhaps you drank too much, my queen,' he suggested. Perhaps she thought._

_'I hate it. I hate him,' she said. Aemon pulled her closer, raising his hand to wipe a tear from her eyes. 'It's so unfair,' she added._

_'Life is never fair,' he responded. There were sounds down the hall. Aemon raised a finger to his lips. Pulling Naerys into an alcove hidden by a tapestry. They were pressed close together._

The story went on to describe how Aemon took his lady love, the queen, in his arms in the alcove. Pressing delicious kisses along her neck to her breast. If Jon wanted her to read then she would read. Two could play this game, she decided. The dressing robe had fallen off both her shoulders.

She knew her cheeks had become flushed even as she grew brave. Moving her own slender hand to her breast while holding the book with her other hand, she read slower. Playing with the sheer fabric of her shift, allowing it too, to fall further off her shoulders. Using one delicate finger she circled her nipple through the fabric.

"Move you're hand lower," he growled. She moved her hand to her stomach opening the dressing robe to reveal more of the sheer shift. Moving her hand between the underside of her breast and her waist. "Lower," he said. Sansa did as she was bid pausing while she read. "And don't stop reading," he added. Her hand moved to the space between her legs. Her fingers continued the circular motion. Leaning back in the chair, she closed her eyes forgetting to read the words on the page. Soon she balled the fabric of her shift into her hand, pressing into her cunt.

His chair scratched against the floor when he moved it back from the table. She jumped at the sound. Brought back to the room, the fire in the hearth.

"Your grace," she whispered. He stilled at her words not moving further. She rose from her seat before he could rise from his. Clutching the book to her chest, she made a hasty move toward the bedchamber. He was quicker. Grabbing her elbow to pull her close to him.

"The story's not furnished," he said, his mouth close to her ear. Sansa squirmed, pretending she wanted to push him away. He held tighter, "We didn't get to the best part."

Her icy eyes met his.  _A challenge._ "It's been quite some time since we've gotten to the best part," she said. His brow furrowed.

"Have I been neglecting you?" he asked sounding more amused than Sansa liked. "Here I thought you preferred your stories to my company."

"Perhaps, the stories are better," she challenged. He laughed and pushed her against the table until she was perched on the edge of it amongst papers and maps.

"I think not," he said before meeting her mouth with his. She returned his kiss gripping his tunic. His hands squeezed her waist as he stood in between her legs. The dressing robe slipping off onto the table. Pushing up her shift, his hand slipped to the space between her legs. Moving his fingers in and out of her. She kissed him harder before pausing to pull his tunic over his head causing his wavy dark hair fall out of the tie holding it back. His thumb started circling her nub, the pressure increasing until she felt her legs shake. He growled in her ear, commanding her to say his name.

Her hands ran down along his strong scarred chest to the laces of his leather breeches. Feeling his hard cock, she bit her lip.

Jon wasted no time once his cock was free. She could feel the wetness from her cunt on her thighs. He spread her legs further apart and pushed into her making her moan. She braced herself on the table, tossing her head back. Jon moved in and out of her, his hands gripping her hips. She leaned forward wrapping her arms around his waist. Their bodies flush, her legs around him. She bit into his shoulder until he growled.

Forcing her to stand, he turned her around. Pushing her forward, so she had to brace herself on the table. She crunched the papers underneath her hands. Lifting her shift again, he entered her from behind. He was always close to finishing when he took her like this. She held her breath with each thrust. His hand moved around her body, finding her nub. Pressing against it until she cried out, calling his name, cursing the old gods and the new. The pace of his thrusts increased, everything tightening around them. He reached his climax soon after she did. His body collapsing on top of hers, his breath heavy. Sansa stared at the flames in the hearth.

Time slowed, Jon lifted himself off of Sansa, pulling her up with him. She leaned into him. He ran his hands through her hair. They moved to the bedchamber, where Jon fully discarded his breeches. They slipped underneath the furs on the large bed. 

"Where did you get that book?" he asked when they were laying in bed. Her back was to his chest and he played to her hair.

"It came with the last shipment from Essos," she said hoping that would be the end of his questions.

"Hmmm..." he said. "how did my wife's words get on a ship coming from Essos?" Sansa's mouth hung open before she remembered it was unladylike.

"How..." she started to ask.

"I know your words," he said. Kissing her neck, "It's no secret to me that you read those books and write your own stories when you think no one is looking."

“I...someone suggested...a bookmaker…” she fumbled for the right words to tell him how she had commissioned her story to be made into a book, 6 copies actually. All by hand with delicate drawings along the borders. Somehow a copy had made it across the sea and back.

“Nevermind...you can keep the secret,” he said. She thought he was smiling. "Only, promise me you'll read me more of the stories you write."

“Of course, my love,” she said. He kissed her neck again, pulling her closer. She fell asleep dreaming of a Queen and her Dragonknight. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm toying with the idea of doing a Part 2 for 'Dark Sister, Dark Nights' starting with this story. TBH this story/chapter probably could've gone with either DSDN or Bound & Betrayed. But it had the more playful tone of DSDN. 
> 
> I don't really have more of a story outlined, just some loose thoughts. Anyways, let me know if you would like more!


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